


Rocket

by madsaialik



Series: The Daddy Archives [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Work, establish marriage + pre-marriage flashbacks, it's a theme, jessa write a cowgirl fic 🙏, over-stimulation, sugar relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsaialik/pseuds/madsaialik
Summary: “You’re a monster,” he mumbled, dragging his hand down his face, “and going to be the death of me.”She stretched and sprawled over his chest, pecking him with light kisses. Her hand snaked between them, stroking his cock sweetly, letting him grow hard in her hand. Rey’s jaw still hurt from yesterday, otherwise, the process would be quick with her mouth, licking along his shaft and the one ticklish spot at the crease of his thigh.“Please? I want you again,” she whispered against his neck, letting her breath fan over his skin.“If you want Daddy’s cock then you’re going to ride me, show me how much you want it, sweetheart.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: The Daddy Archives [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912783
Comments: 5
Kudos: 128





	Rocket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peachykeenjellybean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachykeenjellybean/gifts).



> hello again? I wasn't expecting to be here again either lmao. The first part of this update is from Mitaka's perspective with some Voyeurism Lite and Some Happenings in the Backseat to outline Ben and Rey's relationship prior to Parition.
> 
> tw for the mentions of: i never got to kill plutt or snoke during my ao3 career and I'm finally doing that :'), description/anticipation of spanking WITHOUT the act of spanking, sex work/sugar relationship/mistress, (loving) p o s s e s s i o n,

Mitaka didn’t hate his job. It wasn’t very demanding or difficult maneuvering through traffic while Mr. Solo made business calls behind him. His employer was always polite in a curt sort of way, one of a man who was too busy for his own good without any spare seconds in the day. Once Mr. Solo had married, however…. The new marital status of his employer made aspects of Mitaka’s job very challenging.

What most don’t know was how a partition in a car was not soundproof like the newest versions of the model. Mr. Solo could easily afford any number of 2021 Rolls Royce if he had wished to but a certain nostalgia clung to the deep, cherry red 1967 Clouds III that once belonged to his grandfather.

Mr. Solo did not have a traditional courtship. In the fashion of his family, not much was done without one signing an NDA. Mitaka knew because Ben Solo had not made a single business call until he signed an ironclad contract of his own. The silence of the first few days nearly slipped past Mitaka's notice once he was used to the quiet rumble of muted conversations.

Rey Cissa was a complication. Mitaka liked her fine, but he had heard her moan with his bosses fingers inside her too many times to make eye contact anymore. She had signed her own contract and NDA in the backseat, discussing the finer points of what they hoped to gain from their relationship. Rey wanted an allowance so she could focus on her college studies without starving. She clawed her way into Columbia and she was determined to graduate without debt.

An apartment near campus would be nice, too, his would-be mistress chewed on her thumbnail as she made the suggestion. She wasn’t looking at him and missed the small curve on the corner of his mouth. The look of tenderness Mitaka caught in Mr. Solo’s eyes snapped Mitaka’s attention back to the road.

“I understand why we can’t publicly date now, but during breaks, I would like to go on vacation,” she suggested. “I’m beginning to like monopolizing your time.”

“Are you adverse to online classes?” he asked, rubbing his jaw.

“Not particularly, but I prefer classrooms. Why?”

“You can take an online class anywhere and I can steal you away whenever I want.” Mr. Solo told her. Mitaka mentally calculated his vacation pay stipend and hoped she said yes.

“I’ll consider it. Where are we going?” she asked as Mitaka drove past the city limits.

“Home,” he answered.

Rey frowned at him. “I’ve been to your home. You live on Fifth Avenue.”

“Usually during the week, yes.” he hummed, “We’re heading to my main estate.”

“A more expensive one?” she gulped.

“I didn’t buy it. I inherited it.”

“I knew you reeked of generational wealth,” she teased.

“When your maternal line consists of royalty and scoundrels it’s hard to avoid money.”

“Are you a prince, Ben Solo?”

“Something like that,” he brushed off. “I’ll tell you the story sometimes.”

Mitaka heard Rey gasp as they pulled through the drive and into the courtyard. She was out of the car before the engine was turned off, looking down the line luxury vehicles inherited or purchased in Mr. Solo’s name parked in his garage. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to look under the hoods of all of them. Mitaka knew Mr. Solo would give her the keys in an instant to explore and pink slips, too.

“Is this place real?” she asked as Mr. Solo bid Mitaka a good evening. “Does Mitaka live with you?”

“Good night, sir. Miss. Cissa,” he said quietly.

“I converted the guesthouse into his residence.” Mitaka overheard as he took the path that connected their homes.

“Wow,” she sighed in the honeysuckle scented air, “I’m beginning to understand the perks of working for you.”

“Only just now?” he murmured and kissed her in the center of the courtyard.

The purchased bond grew genuine with one soft question that spoke of a trust Mitaka could never comprehend.

“Would you kill Aaron Plutt for me?” she asked in a calm tone, one that had a fury beneath a thin facade painted for the sakes of composure. Rey had been looking out the window, watching Manhattan as they smoothly navigated traffic. The steering wheel nearly jerked out of Mitaka’s grip. Mr. Solo merely nodded and made a note of it on the copy sitting on his lap. His eyes were flat and uncompromising when they met Mitaka’s in the rearview mirror.

“Mitaka, the partition please,” he said in an even tone. Ever dutiful, he raised the private screen and worked to remove the question from his mind. It wasn’t his business.

“I’d do anything for you.”

It wasn’t his business, Mitaka told himself again.

The same day Mitaka picked Rey up from her new property was the first time Aaron Plutt’s name ever made the papers. Mitaka wondered if it would be crass if he were to frame the article as a house warming present.

The townhouse was modest by the New York Elite means, a slender face and large bay windows tucked into the Upper East Side. She asked for the area so she could walk through Central Park on sunny days rather than taxi to Columbia. “And it must not be over five million dollars,” she had demanded.

“It will be under ten million,” Mr. Solo retorted with a nod as if he made a compromise. Mitaka had driven Mr. Solo to the open house. The market value was closer to sixteen million. He picked the property for the rooftop garden, Mr. Solo’s assistant told him between typing out emails while they waited in the car.

Miss. Cissa sat outside on the stoop of her four-story home, wringing her hands. She looked more like herself, he thought, in stained jeans. Her face was fresh with the sheen of sweat from moving her meager belongings, all fresh-faced and young and beautiful.

“Good morning,” Mitaka said with a nod and held the door open for her.

“Hello, Mitaka, how is your day?”

Not many he drove asked him that and her personality was so infectious he smiled back. She had the oddest combination of survival crassness underlying a relentless optimism. When he first met her, Mitaka wrongly presumed she would be eaten alive by the socialites that hound Mr. Solo’s attention. Now, he realized that it was wrong to underestimate such a tenacious woman who would beat off others with a stick.

“A fine day for a drive, Miss. Cissa,” he told her with a smile.

“I’m not Mr. Solo, Mitaka. How many times do I have to ask you to call me Rey?” she huffed and slipped into the Jaguar purring on the curb. “Mr. Solo, Mr. Solo,” she muttered to herself, glaring at her new home. “What does he expect me to do with all these bedrooms?”

“Home offices in Manhattan are not unheard of,” he suggested. Rey gave him a long-suffering sigh and sunk into the buttery leather, seeming to resent just how nice it was.

“I have a dining room now, a room just to eat in. Rich people are the worst.” Rey muttered and Mitaka couldn’t help but laugh.

From what Mitaka could gather from the ongoing FBI investigation on Aaron Plutt, the trafficker deserved a worse fate than being attacked by his own guard dogs. He certainly didn’t feel sympathy, but perhaps he had been desensitized by people in Ben Solo’s sphere of influence being found dead.

“I feel like you’re hiding me,” Rey said one evening when Mr. Solo requested she be in the car when he was picked up from the office. Mitaka didn’t need to know about mistresses or illicit affairs to know she wasn’t wearing much under the trench coat and gulped.

“I am hiding you, remember?” he muttered nastily, running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t need to be blatantly rude to prove your point,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. Mr. Solo reached over, threading his fingers through her hair.

“I apologize,” he murmured, “I just want to keep you safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” she whispered against the corner of his mouth. Her bare leg slipped over his thighs, without looking over her shoulder. “Mitaka, the partition, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Things had changed when Afanas Snoke had been found on his estate, the apparent victim of a home burglary gone wrong. Mr. Solo looked less tired, dark circles lightening in the sheen reflecting off the diamond settled on Rey’s left hand. When Snoke & Solo was liquidized for its assets and it wasn’t long before the FBI head hunted him. The marriage came with a cozy paid vacation during their honeymoon and a salary raise which afforded Mitaka soundproof earphones.

Rey Cissa made his employer reckless, but Rey Solo made her husband unhinged with want.

“Sit still and keep my cock warm while I make this call.”

“Get on your knees and show Daddy what a good girl you are.”

“Didn’t you tell Daddy you wanted to come in the car?”

Mitaka’s face always burned as he quietly scrambled for his earphones. It was the same sensation of overhearing his parents or roommates have sex. Somewhere in between nonplussed and uncomfortable in the sense that it felt like an invasion of privacy rather than intentional voyeurism.

Besides, it wasn’t his business. He was paid to drive cars he loved, for a man he respected, without investment to the happenings of the backseat.

* * *

Nobody knew this, but Rey did yoga every morning for the singular purpose of being able to arch her back further for her husband. The practice started when she had agreed to assist Finn at the VA Hospital for a free class offered to his fellow veterans.

She was particularly proud of the curve of her spine when he told her to get on her knees. Rey preened and stretched further at the noise of approval deep in his throat.

Ben grabbed her ass, pressing her hips into his hard cock beneath his fine wool slacks. He pushed her forward and she could see how he looked down between the gap between them.

“What a pretty pussy you’ve got. All wet for Daddy,” he murmured, messaging his fingers into the toned muscle of her ass. The grip was not painful, but sharp enough to control her movements with barely any extra pressure. “I just spank you for ruining my pants, I just took them to the cleaners.”

Rey’s mouth watered and she could nearly hear the buckle of his belt coming undone, anticipating the hot flash of leather against her skin. Her toes curled.

She whimpered when he changed his mind. “No, no. I don’t think you deserve that, sweetheart, you’ve been such a good girl today.”

“Yes, I’m your good girl,” she moaned, lower lip dragging against the Egyptian cotton stretched tight over his ridiculously large bed, almost resentful of her good behavior. There were certain rewards of being a brat on occasion. “But, I can take it, Daddy.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he smiled against her shoulder. “I was made for you, I could never give you anything you can’t take.”

“Please,” she whispered.

His hand left her ass and her chest tightened, wanting his palm to return as quickly as possible with every ounce of power of the corded muscles of her husband’s arms. Ben’s fingers touch her clit in a gentle circle, the sweet touch made her jump.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

Ben lazily gathered her wetness clinging to her damp curls and slowly dipped his finger into her aching cunt. He always took his time with her, even quick, semi-public romps seem to be stretched out in hidden corners and beneath tables. Ben put his hands in her panties like a pianist composing a sweet melody. The first push of his fingers was always slow, dragging against her inner walls and pulling an embarrassing mewl from her throat.

They met at Columbia when she crashed an event on the prowl for some wealthy alumni to try to convince them to invest in her instead of the greed of those in charge of the institution. She figured one of these rich fucks were tired of their university begging for money at the end of each quarter.

When she first spotted him, all dark with eyes that matched the bourbon in his too-large hands, she knew he was dangerous. He spoke and mingled with others with a nearly blank face, it made him unpredictable as he never exposed what he was thinking. Those around him wilted like deprived sunflowers when they didn’t break his icy exterior. Rey considered just how to get his attention and wondered if wrapping her hand around his pinned Gucci tie would work.

She took a deep breath and smoothed down the black number that was the perfect amount of tightness over the curve of her ass. Rey gently touched his elbow, the first person to be brave enough to do so. She knew because he wielded his personal space like a weapon.

“Hello, I’m Rey Cissa,” she said quickly and flashed a smile then tucked herself closer to his broad chest. “Sorry, I spotted my professor and I snuck in for the free food.”

“Rebellious little thing, aren’t you?” he asked over the brim of his drink. The face of his watch flashed. The leather band was simple but she was sure it was platinum. Maybe his credit card was, too.

She shrugged, glancing up through her lashes, “Maybe. If you’re not going to tell security that I’m crashing, then I think I deserve to know your name.”

“Ben Solo.”

Rey smiled wider as the name of one of the largest law firms in the city flashed across her mind.

Snoke & Solo was the worst type of defense attorneys with a reputation of ruthlessness and an impeccable record of winning. Rey licked her lips.

“Perfect,” she blurted out before she could help herself.

He only raised his brows, entertained for the time being, and willing to indulge her.

Now or never, she told herself.

“Food here sucks, even if it is free. Want to buy me dinner?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“After you, Miss. Cissa,” he said without a moment of deliberation like he was already set on eating her whole. She reached forward and threaded her fingers into his, and pulled him to the back exit.

Rey tapped on her Uber app, considering the restaurants she could never afford but drooled over.

“Put your phone away,” he said. The easy command lacing the dark timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I have a car.”

He raised his hand and the most beautiful car Rey had ever seen rolled to a stop. If tonight went well she might just lean over it one day.

“How’d the library naming ceremony go, sir?” his driver asked as he rounded the car.

“I left Han back there to deal with the speeches and thank yous,” Ben told him. “If they wanted me to stay then they should have considered the Benjamin Solo Library instead of just Solo.”

“Maybe they were too tempted to add your middle name,” his driver laughed.

“You’re hilarious, Mitaka,” he deadpanned. “Miss. Cissa and I are going to—”

“Ben’s place,” she spoke up and Ben nearly grinned. The corner of his mouth twitched and she wanted to sink her teeth into his lip for denying her the smile.

He sprawled over the leather seat next to her, his leg pressed from thigh to knee against hers.

“I decided I wanted to stay in, is that okay with you?” she asked, the quiver of hesitation rang in her voice. Just how far would he let her push him?

“Perfect,” he said, her answer echoing. Ben didn’t place his hand on her knee, but let his fingers skim along the slit of her dress. Her tanned thigh prickled at the gentle fire following the path of his touch. Ben notched the fabric up further, exposing her bare and pantiless skin. “Absolutely perfect.”

Now or never.

Rey leaned into him, breath mingling with the bourbon on his tongue before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The chaste kiss was chased by his mouth, his hands clamping onto her waist and dragging him onto his lap. Her lashes fluttered when he pressed his cock against the apex of her thighs. Rey considered how she used to ride her pillows, the cotton in her memory like burlap when she rubbed herself demurely against his wool slacks.

She pulled back from his mouth.

“If you want to fuck me then pay me,” Rey told him. Same nausea churned in her stomach as whenever she would pickpocket and shoplift for her next meal. A precarious balance of risk for reward. She could do this. She would do this.

Ben smiled, wide and feral, the most genuine expression she had seen on his face all evening. “I’ll get the paperwork started.”

Oh, she pondered weakly, I’m in over my head. Rey thought she may be loved the sensation of drowning when his lips slotted back over hers.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can come now,” he told her softly as he worked his fingers in and out of her, a calm demand as if her orgasm was his due like it belonged to him and Rey thought, yes maybe they did. Maybe she did.

She felt whole beneath him, this marriage of convenience a sophisticated solution to her financial stability. She had not expected love. She had not expected to revel in the possessiveness of her husband. Her skin sparked beneath the pads of his fingers digging into her hips. She gasped at the new grip. Rey could feel the bruises promised beneath her skin and knew she would trace them in the shower for days to come.

The first slide of his cock inside her always cut off her breathing in a sharp gasp. His hand cupped the back of her neck with the capability of pressure.

“I had a long day, sweetheart,” he murmured and trailed kisses between her shoulders. “You think you can take it rough tonight?”

“I can take anything, Daddy,” she whispered.

He didn’t say much after that, anything lost in the sharp slap of skin. Rey pulled her arms back behind her, crossing them together as she held her elbows. His hand gripped her forearms together in one palm as he fucked her hard enough to make her eyes roll back. This was bliss, Rey thought as she went boneless and compliant, free in a way with how she didn’t have to concern herself with her pleasure. Her husband would take care of her.

She cried out, gripped tight around his cock as her orgasm built and built and built. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, the pressure nearly unbearable when she couldn’t reach between her legs.

Ben held her savagely as he came as deep as he possibly could. Her orgasm she was ready to freefall into slipped from her. Knowing her better than anything or anyone else, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his thick fingers. He kept her full as he kneeled and took her clit between his lips. Rey screamed into the pillow.

When she was done shaking, he scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen. She flinched from the cool stone of the center island touching her heated skin.

“Icecream?” he asked, illuminated by the open freezer in their dark home.

“Please,” she said with a yawn.

She stretched and laid back, sinking into the coolness in contrast to the warmth returning to her core rolling into want as she watched her shirtless husband move around their kitchen. Rey spreads her legs a touch, seeing if he understands the invitation. He kissed her knee when he grabbed the spoons. She wants him to kiss her in other places, thinking of the last time he hauled her onto the counter and pushed her knees apart.

In bed, with the comforter pulled to her chin, Rey turned to her husband as he read the paper.

“Daddy?”

Ben hummed at the questioning tone, his eyes not shifting to her even when she wiggled closer. Rey kissed his shoulder, meandering towards the column of his throat. The nip on made the paper crumble in his hand.

“You’re a monster,” he mumbled, dragging his hand down his face, “and going to be the death of me.”

She stretched and sprawled over his chest, pecking him with light kisses. Her hand snaked between them, stroking his cock sweetly, letting him grow hard in her hand. Rey’s jaw still hurt from yesterday, otherwise, the process would be quick with her mouth, licking along his shaft and the one ticklish spot at the crease of his thigh.

“Please? I want you again,” she whispered against his neck, letting her breath fan over his skin.

“If you want Daddy’s cock then you’re going to ride me, show me how much you want it, sweetheart.”

Rey scrambled to her knees, the comforter crumpled and forgotten around her waist. She sunk onto him in one smooth slide.

“My come is still inside you and you want more? Filthy little girl you are.”

She rolled her hips until she found her pace, hands spread over his shoulders. He would have crescent-shaped marks for him to admire when he pulled on his shirt the next day.

Ben lounged against his pillow, dark hair askew, and reading glasses crooked on his nose under her. After he came once, he was rarely able to do so again in such a short period of time, so Rey took her time and slowly rocked on his cock. His hands covered her hips, feeling her move, and shifting one hand so his thumb could press on her clit. Ben didn’t circle or rub the way she needed, just let her grind into the touch.

Her first orgasm took her by surprise, striking quickly and winding her core tight. Her spine curled and she stalled, her breath in her throat.

“Do that again,” he said, a command not a suggestion. Ben grabbed her hips and hauled them up so he could lean against the headboard better.

When she collapsed against his chest orgasms later, breathing ragged and shaking, he said, “God, I love you. Turn around and let me watch your ass bounce on Daddy’s cock”

Rey whimpered and shuddered, her thighs beginning to burn as the aftershocks of her orgasms dimmed. Her face was wet with tears again and she wiped her nose inelegantly on the back of her hand.

“Daddy please let me stop, I came so hard for you,” she pleaded.

“You’re the insatiable little whore who wanted to come again so turn around and keep riding my cock, sweetheart.” Ben reached up and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone. “I know you can do it. What’s your safeword?”

“Rottweiler.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. You could have used it any time and haven’t, so keep going.”

Near delirium, she nodded and tried not to blush at how slick she made his pelvis. Her knee dug into the growing wet spot near his hip as she shifted. Facing away from him, Rey was able to put on a show with each stroke. His hands ghosted over her ass so as to not hinder her circling hips. She clutched his thighs as she sunk onto him again and again and again.

Suddenly he leaned forward and gripped her by her hair, wrenching her back against his chest. His palm branded hip and he yanked her deeper onto his cock.

“Don’t stop rocking your hips, sweetheart, you’re going to come just like this,” he said into her ear and nipped at her skin. “I know how you love to be full of Daddy’s cock.”

“I love your cock, Daddy. Feels like it was made for me.”

“It was, I was. Now, make yourself come one more time and maybe I’ll let you go to sleep.”

“Promise, Daddy?”

He grinned, bucking his hips once. "Maybe. But you feel too good on my cock, I don't know if I'll ever let you stop."

_"Daddy!"_

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: [@madsaialik](https://twitter.com/madsaialik) for updates or me crying into my sapphic reylo novel drafts


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